What if? (my very last post about the Potterverse - I hope)

[mary_j_59]

As I expect all of my friends know, I was deeply disappointed in Deathly Hallows, and therefore in the Potterverse as a whole. It seemed to me meanspirited, full of contradictory messages, and poorly written. In many ways, after two years, it still does. But, as a result of a couple of conversations, something just occurred to me. What if the Potterverse is not exactly what it seems to be? Or, rather, what if Rowling actually achieved her goal with these books - but that goal wasn't exactly what we (or at least I ) thought it was?

There are two ways in which I think this could be so, one likely, and one perhaps unintentional. I'll start with the unintentional one.

I expect those of us on the lookout for Christian symbolism saw Harry as a Christ figure. I certainly did, and I was disgusted. But someone (was it Jodel?) pointed out that:
1. Snape's reaching out to Harry, rather than trying to save himself, was a choice - and a sacrifice. A deliberate one.
2. If anything was going to confer protection on the school and its inhabitants, the deliberate sacrifice of an acting headmaster doing his duty would be much more likely to confer that protection than the death of a boy who happened to be a walking horcrux.

I was not the person who had this insight, but it's pretty brilliant! From this, it follows that-
If there is a Christ figure in these books, it is Snape (imperfect as he is). And Harry's virtue, and his heroism, lies in his recognition of Snape and his sacrifice. Ron and most of the wizarding world don't achieve this recognition, but we are supposed to see that Harry does.

That is possible. As I said, I don't think it's intentional, but it is quite definitely there; it's a part of what I (and others) have been calling the shadow reading, and it hangs together much better than the surface reading of the books. But I think there is a reading that is intentional, and Rowling herself gave us plently of warning about what, exactly, that reading is.

She said that she didn't like fantasy. She said that she didn't think she was writing a fantasy. She said that she intended to subvert the fantasy genre.

When I read this, back in the Time magazine interview, my reaction was like Terry Pratchett's - "what do you think you're writing? You have unicorns in your story!" And I didn't take Rowling's statement seriously. Now I think I should have.

Because one of the effects of these books, at least on me, was: "Gosh, now I hate magic." I didn't want to pick up, or think about, any book with magic in it. I was thoroughly disgusted with Rowling's magical world and disliked almost everyone and everything in it - with the notable exceptions of Severus Snape, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood. I even began asking myself why I liked fantasy, anyway. Magic simply corrupted those who had it, didn't it? It took me a long time, and a lot of analysis, to come back to the fantasies I truly loved and to see the difference between those works and Rowling's. But I still have a knee-jerk reaction against fantasy and magic, as a result of these books.

I now think my reaction was exactly what Rowling was after. Jodel and Marionros remarked, in a conversation, that Rowling seemed to be out to subvert the school story. Not so - in many ways, at least according to C.S. Lewis's definition of the school story (see my essay on Eustace and Harry for more about that), Rowling simply follows the pattern slavishly. But fantasy? She does actually subvert it, and that is just what she aimed to do.

And that's brilliant, in a way. I still don't especially like what Rowling did, but she did in fact fulfill a stated goal with these books. Which means that they are a good deal more coherent and purposeful than I had initially thought.

Just a thought.

Comments

[professor-mum.livejournal.com]

First, I agree with the poster below: JKR needed an honest editor who wasn't afraid to rein in an 800lb gorilla who refused to practice good continuity hygine.

Second, with much distance from DH and deep reflection, it is abundantly clear to me that Jo simply did not like that Snape became a runaway fandom favorite, slightly out of her control. His ignoble death on the floor will always represent, to me, Jo flexing her authorial perogative to leave Harry no glory competition at the tale's end.

[mary-j-59.livejournal.com]

Oh, I think you're right (and see what I said to Hope, above). It's quite clear that Rowling went out of her way to minimize Snape and diminish his character as much as she could. The result was only minor damage to the character, but major damage (imho) to her plot and themes.

But I do think it's true that she hates fantasy. Who knows; maybe she really did intend to subvert the genre?

[professor-mum.livejournal.com]

Well, I don't have to tell you that she is a controlling person, and I think it privately galled her that the Snape character got away from her and took on a bright life of its own. I think the first scene in DH illustrates her anger: Snape simply watches a fellow Hogwarts teacher (one who we've never met, grrrr)get murdered and he does nothing to save her. It's like Jo is saying: do you STILL worship this guy and find him an inspirational role model?

[bohemianspirit.livejournal.com]

Snape simply watches a fellow Hogwarts teacher (one who we've never met, grrrr)get murdered and he does nothing to save her. It's like Jo is saying: do you STILL worship this guy and find him an inspirational role model?

YES, because there was not a damned thing he could have done to save her. Any rescue attempt would result only in both of them getting killed, as well as the betrayal of Severus' allegiance and who-knows-what outcome for the students of Hogwarts and for the war itself.

We've never met this colleague of his, yet the way she pleads with him suggests that she did trust and respect Severus and would expect him to want to help her. Which, once we know what Severus said to Dumbledore--"Lately, only those I could not save"--is exactly what he would have wanted to do.

Having to sit there watching her suffer and then be killed, and remain stoically Occluded through it all, represented a far deeper and more wrenching courage than the reckless Gryffindor variety.

[mary-j-59.livejournal.com]

I agree 100 percent, Bohemianspirit. Really, the only thing wrong with that scene is that we had never seen (and scarcely ever heard of) Charity Burbage before. What it tells us about Severus Snape and his sheer grit and loyalty is actually worthwhile. But the scene would have been far more wrenching had we known of a relationship between them-

[bohemianspirit.livejournal.com]

Yes, it would have been a good idea to have Charity Burbage appear previously, even if only in passing, once or twice per book. Why not mention her sitting at the Head Table with the other teachers? Or some mention by Hermione in third year, who was taking Muggle Studies?

But the scene would have been far more wrenching had we known of a relationship between them-

It seems like an awful lot of people have inferred some kind of a relationship between them, just from the little bit we see. And I started writing Severus/Charity as a pairing for Snape100 when the prompt was based on the "Eye of the Beholder" fic with characters that rarely get paired in fanfiction, so of course I've thought about it a bit myself. ;-) But even when I first read the scene in DH, I got the impression of at least simple, cordial, collegial friendship between the two, and great trust, a trust that was being betrayed.

And saying that Severus had sheer grit is probably the understatement of the century. He had weaknesses and vulnerabilities, but by God, at the core he was a strong man.

[professor-mum.livejournal.com]

I know what Jo tried to convey, and I do respect your interpretation. But it just didn't work for me in the same manner. Prior to DH Jo did a great job "previewing" characters and elements that would later come into play. Charity Burbage was a jarring one scene presence to me --- I had nothing invested in her and I didn't know what sort of person she was (sinner, saint, whatever). So, the emotion of her murder and Snape's stoic presence was muted for me. It would/should have played like you describe above if only we knew her.

[bohemianspirit.livejournal.com]

Even without what I read into the situation, it was still horrifying enough. I didn't have to know who she was or what kind of a person she was to feel her agony--or, after solidifying his true allegiance, Severus'. Does it really matter if she was a "sinner" or a "saint"? She was a fellow human being who published an article that rubbed Voldemort the wrong way. That was enough for me.